by Jessica Hart
‘It must be important.’
‘It is. It could be make or break.’
‘For you or for the company?’
‘Both,’ said Campbell.
Tilly looked around the crowded ballroom. ‘It’s a long way to come for one night,’ she commented.
‘Some things are worth coming a long way for.’
Winning would always be worth the effort for competitive types like Campbell, Tilly remembered. ‘Beating Roger and his GPS?’ she enquired, and he smiled then.
‘Not just that,’ he said.
Tilly wanted to ask what else would matter enough to him to make it worth crossing the Atlantic for a night, two at best, but before she had a chance they were joined by Maggie, director of the hospice. She had been invited with some of the nursing staff and representatives of patients’ families, and they were all much more excited about the result than Tilly was.
‘You both came over wonderfully,’ Maggie told them, talking about the programme. ‘I do hope you’ll win, and not just for what it will mean to us. Thank you so much for everything you did, especially you, Tilly.’
‘That’s what I always want to say to you,’ said Tilly, embarrassed. ‘I’ll never forget what everyone at the hospice did for Mum, and for Jack. Besides, the competition turned out to be fun, so I got more out of it than anyone. I loved every minute of it.’
Campbell arched a brow. ‘What, even the abseil?’
‘Well, not those few minutes,’ she said, making a face at him, ‘but just about everything else.’
I loved being with you, she wanted to tell him, but there never seemed to be an opportunity. People kept coming up and saying how much they had enjoyed the programme. Keith, Campbell’s old PR Director, ribbed him about the pink apron, Suzy wanted to talk about what would happen when the winners were announced…Couldn’t they see she just wanted to be alone with Campbell?
Tilly was so jittery with frustration and nerves that she didn’t notice quite how often her glass was being refilled until the wooziness hit her with a vengeance. She was badly in need of some food to mop up the champagne, but it was already half past nine and there was no sign of dinner.
She had better try and clear her head a little or she would never make it through to the announcement of the winners.
Murmuring an excuse, Tilly slipped outside. The night air was cool and quiet after the hubbub of the ballroom and she took a deep breath. How was she ever going to get Campbell on his own with all these people around? Perhaps part of her had hoped that he would follow her, but there was no sign of him. Instead, she saw Jim, the cameraman, sneaking out for a smoke.
Jim was a chatty type and, if he noticed her, he would be bound to come over and talk. It wasn’t that Tilly disliked him, but there was only one man she wanted with her right then, and she made a show of digging out her mobile as if she was about to make an important call.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jim veer away but, having got that far, she thought she might as well switch the phone on. Cleo had said that she would text her to wish her luck, and Seb and Harry might remember what a big night it was for her, too.
Sure enough, there was a text message from Cleo, and another informing her that she had a message on her voicemail. Feeling virtuous without a glass of champagne in her hand, Tilly dialled up the service to listen.
It was Harry, and all thoughts of champagne were promptly driven from her mind. Horrified, she listened to his message and looked wildly round, instinctively seeking Campbell.
Campbell saw her hurry back into the ballroom and one look at her face had him striding towards her. ‘What is it?’ he asked sharply.
Tilly grabbed at him. ‘Oh, thank goodness I’ve found you! It’s Seb,’ she said, her voice threaded with panic. ‘I’ve just had a message from Harry. There’s been an accident and Seb’s in hospital…Harry said something about operating and needing me as next of kin.’
Her eyes were huge as she stared up at him. ‘I don’t know what to do. I know I should stay for the hospice, but I need to go to Seb. What if he’s really hurt? What if he’s…?’
Her voice broke, unable to finish the sentence, and Campbell gripped her firmly by both arms. ‘Tell me exactly what Harry said,’ he said, and Tilly drew a steadying breath as she felt the strength of his hands holding her, calming her, sending reassurance seeping through her.
‘Listen to his message,’ she said, holding out the phone, and Campbell put it to his ear. Harry was rambling rather than incoherent. He sounded shaken, but not desperate, and he had even ended by telling Tilly she wasn’t to worry. Campbell almost smiled at that bit. Harry clearly didn’t know his sister very well. There was no way Tilly wasn’t going to worry after a message like that.
‘Which hospital does he mean?’ he asked her, hoping to get her to focus on details rather than the unknown.
‘The local one in Allerby. They were both back this weekend to see friends. There was some party…’ Tilly ran her hands distractedly through her hair. ‘They’ll all have been out playing the fool…you know what boys that age are like.’
‘How are you going to get back?’ Campbell asked and she looked at him, grateful that he wasn’t going to waste time trying to dissuade her.
‘I suppose it’s too late to get a train…It’ll take too long to get to the station from here. I’ll have to drive,’ she decided wildly. ‘I’ll hire a car.’
‘You’ve been drinking.’
‘Taxi, then,’ she said with a touch of desperation.
‘I’ll drive you,’ said Campbell. ‘I’ve got a car for the couple of days I’m here, and I’ve been on orange juice all evening. You go and get your things.’
She stared at him, longing to put herself in his capable hands but horribly aware that she shouldn’t. She should be looking after herself.
‘You can’t,’ she said, fresh problems rearing their ugly heads. ‘What about the announcement?’
‘I’ll explain to Maggie. If we win, she can accept the cheque for us. This whole thing has been about the hospice anyway, so I can’t see there’ll be a problem. I’ll have a word with Suzy, too.’
‘But it’ll take hours to drive to Allerby from here!’ With a strangely detached part of her mind, Tilly noticed that she was actually wringing her hands. ‘You’ll never get back in time for your flight tomorrow.’
‘There will be other flights,’ Campbell said.
‘What about your meeting, though? You said it was really important.’
‘It’s not as important as getting you to Seb. Now, I’m not going to tell you not to worry,’ he went on without giving her time to react, ‘but you don’t need to panic. We’ll get on our way and you can ring Harry and find out what’s happening. You’ll feel better when you’ve got more information.’
Tilly let herself be persuaded. She knew she shouldn’t be relying on Campbell like this, but he was exactly what she needed. He was calm and competent and he was going to take her to Seb.
He dealt with all the practicalities, which meant that all she had to do was to bundle her things into her bag and hurry down to where he had the car already waiting. In a fever to get to the hospital, she hadn’t even taken the time to change and was still in her blue ball gown.
At first, Tilly sat rigidly staring ahead, too tense to think about anything except what might be waiting for her at the hospital, but, as the miles passed, she gradually succumbed to the quiet reassurance of Campbell’s presence and leant back inch by inch until she could relax into the luxurious leather seat.
Only then did she let herself think about the man beside her. Campbell hadn’t wasted time changing either. Like most men, the severe lines of a dinner jacket suited him beautifully. Tilly eyed his profile from under her lashes, and something about the angle of his cheek made her ache.
Be careful what you wish for. Wasn’t that the saying? She had longed to be alone with him, and now here they were, driving through the dark in the quiet, powerful
car, but she was too consumed by anxiety to be able to say any of the things she had wanted to say to him. There would be no invitation to her room, no last night of passion, no kiss goodbye.
Tilly’s heart twisted at the opportunity lost, but then she immediately felt guilty. How could any of that matter when Seb was injured?
Campbell’s car was fast and comfortable and he drove it the way he did everything else, with an austere competence and utter control. He let Tilly sit quietly when she wanted to, and when she wanted to talk about her brothers, he listened.
‘They were always trouble, even as little boys,’ she remembered with a wobbly smile. ‘It’s not that they’re bad boys. They can be lovely, but they can be thoughtless and irresponsible like a lot of young men, too, and they egg each other on, just the way they used to do when they were toddlers.
‘You’d think they’d be growing out of it now.’ She sighed. ‘They’re twenty. I keep hoping they’ll settle down when they graduate and have to get jobs…’ Tilly trailed off as she remembered that Seb might never graduate and fear clutched at her afresh.
‘It’s not just Seb I’m frightened for,’ she confessed in a low voice. ‘It’s Harry, too. They’ve always been so close. If anything happens to Seb…’ She swallowed hard. ‘Harry won’t be able to bear it, I know he won’t.’
She was twisting her fingers in her lap, and Campbell reached out and covered them with one big, warm hand. It felt incredibly reassuring.
‘Harry will be with Seb now,’ he said. ‘His phone will have to be switched off in the hospital, and that’s why you can’t get through, but at least that means they’re together.’
Tilly often wondered afterwards how she would have got through that night without Campbell. He was a fast driver, but even so it took over four hours to get to the hospital. They stopped once to fill the car up, and he bought her some coffee and chocolate biscuits, which steadied her a little, and he didn’t try to tell her everything would be all right.
When they finally drew up outside the hospital, he let Tilly out so that she could run inside while he found somewhere to park. They still hadn’t been able to contact Harry, and Campbell hoped he would be there or Tilly would be frantic with worry about him, too.
Fortunately, Harry was where he was supposed to be for once. Campbell eventually tracked Tilly down to a waiting area linking three wards, and found her sitting with her brother on the kind of rigid seats he always associated with airport departure lounges-the ones specially designed to discourage you from getting comfortable at all, let alone lying down.
Tilly was looking crumpled and tear-stained, but she jumped up when she saw Campbell and came instinctively towards him with her hands held out.
Campbell gripped them between his own, afraid of what the tear stains might mean. ‘Seb?’ he asked tensely.
‘He’s going to be OK.’ Tilly pulled her hands away so that she could search for a tissue. ‘He’s sleeping, but I’ve seen him, and the nurse said everything went well. I’m so relieved, I can’t stop crying. It’s stupid, isn’t it?’
‘Here,’ said Campbell, producing a clean handkerchief, and she took it with a watery smile and blew her nose.
‘Thank you,’ she said gratefully.
‘Tell me what happened.’
‘I haven’t heard the full story yet, but it sounds as if they were all messing around at some party, and walking along walls. Seb fell badly, and broke his arm and his ankle, which will teach you not to be so silly,’ she added with a darkling glance at Harry. ‘It’s lucky you’re not both in hospital!’
Belatedly realising what all the crying must have done to her make-up, Tilly used the handkerchief to wipe under her eyes. Sure enough, it came away with great black streaks. Now not only did she look like a panda, but she had ruined Campbell’s handkerchief.
‘Apparently his arm had a particularly nasty fracture, so they had to reset it under anaesthetic, but he should be fine.’
‘I told you not to worry,’ said Harry defensively. He turned to Campbell. ‘I can’t believe she dragged you all the way up here! Seb’ll be furious when he finds out.’
‘It was no problem.’ Campbell intervened quickly before a full-blown argument developed. ‘I was glad to help.’
‘I’m afraid it was a problem,’ Tilly said ruefully when Harry had gone off to pass on the good news about Seb, and probably to continue partying, as she had observed with a sigh.
‘You’ve missed the ceremony, your flight and your meeting,’ she reminded Campbell. ‘I feel terrible now. I’ve dragged you all the way up here for a broken arm! I’m so sorry,’ she said, scrubbing absently at her face with the handkerchief. ‘I should have found out more before I panicked.’
Too tired to think what to do next, Tilly dropped back down on to the bench seating under a framed print of some anonymous seaside scene. Someone had done their best, but it was a depressing place. A selection of tired-looking magazines lay on the low table with a couple of discarded plastic cups of coffee from the vending machine down the hall. At this hour of the night, the wards around them were quiet, the lighting dim.
After a moment, Campbell sat down beside her. ‘You needed to be here,’ he said, ‘and I needed to be with you.’
‘You had much more important things to do,’ she said, balling the handkerchief between her hands, but Campbell shook his head.
‘No,’ he said, his voice quiet and firm. ‘Nothing could be more important than this.’
Tilly looked at him then, her eyes dark and blue and puzzled, and something she read in his expression made her heart begin to thud.
He was tall and solid and close beside her and, despite her exhaustion, the receding anxiety about Seb was being replaced by a breathless awareness of Campbell, who had driven through the night for her, who had been there for her when she’d needed him.
She looked around the waiting area, at the discarded cups and uncomfortable seats. Her dress was creased and crumpled and there was a stain down the front where she must have spilt some coffee in the car. The champagne she had drunk what seemed like a lifetime ago had left her with a dull headache. Wiping the handkerchief under her eyes once more, Tilly sighed.
‘This wasn’t how I imagined tonight.’
‘What did you think it would be like?’ Campbell asked her quietly. He wasn’t touching her, but she could feel his eyes on her face.
‘I thought we’d be drinking champagne with a lot of glamorous people,’ she said, not looking at him. ‘I bought this dress specially.’ She rubbed at the stain with a rueful expression. ‘I wanted to look nice. I imagined us listening for the winners to be announced together, hearing our names and going up to collect the cheque for the hospice.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘I thought it would be great.’
‘It would have been,’ Campbell agreed.
Tilly nodded slowly. ‘And then I imagined us celebrating together,’ she went on, and she turned her head to look straight into his eyes while she told him the truth.
‘I was going to suggest we go to my room so we could be alone,’ she told him. ‘I was going to tell you I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the night before you left. I was going to ask if we could spend one last night together.’
Campbell was sitting very still, staring at her, and she bit her lip. She might as well know the truth. ‘What would you have said?’
A smile had started at the back of his eyes, giving her hope, so she wasn’t expecting his answer. ‘I would have said no,’ he said. ‘Oh.’
Tilly looked blindly away, a stricken expression in her dark blue eyes.
Very gently, Campbell reached out and laid his fingers along her jaw, turning her head back to make her face him again.
‘I would have said no, I didn’t want it to be a last night,’ he told her softly. ‘I’d have said I didn’t want to say goodbye the next morning, the way we did before. If we were going to spend the night together, Tilly-and you have no idea how much I wanted that!-I wanted i
t to be a beginning for us, not an ending.’
Unable to speak, still reeling from that ‘no’, Tilly could only stare uncomprehendingly at him, and he smiled crookedly.
‘This isn’t how I imagined this evening either, Tilly,’ he said. ‘The reason I wasn’t drinking earlier was because I was nervous.’
She found her voice at that. ‘You? Nervous? I don’t believe it!’
‘It’s true. But it wasn’t about whether we won or not. I didn’t fly all this way to hear whether the viewers thought my cake was worth more than Roger’s GPS. I came to tell you that I’ve missed you.’
His voice was very deep as he released her face, tossed the handkerchief she was still clutching aside and took both her hands in his warm grasp.
‘I came to tell you that I’ve thought about you every day. There I was in New York, living in a penthouse, surrounded by everything I could possibly want, and all I could think about was you, and how I wished you were there with me.
‘I thought about that last night we had, too, Tilly,’ he went on. ‘I kept remembering what you said about it just being a fling to get over Olivier. You were so definite about us having different lives and not wanting part of mine, and I told myself that I had to respect that, but then they sent me the advance tape of the programme.’
He paused, remembering. ‘I watched you on the screen, and you were so gorgeous and funny and I saw myself and it was blindingly obvious that I’d wanted you right from the start. It made me realise that I had to try and persuade you to change your mind.
‘You weren’t the only one with plans to say something tonight,’ he told Tilly with a half smile. ‘All I could think about was getting you alone somehow so I could tell you how I felt. I was going to tell you that I love you and need you, that life’s no fun without you now. I was going to ask you to marry me,’ said Campbell. ‘Is it any wonder I was nervous?’
Tilly was struggling to take it all in. This had to be a dream, she thought. That would explain everything. She had drunk too much champagne and fallen asleep and any minute now she would wake up and her heart would break to realise that none of it was real.
